Amerikaz Nightmare (Dirty)
Mobb Deep
Amerikaz Nightmare
Amerikaz Nightmare (Dirty) - Mobb Deep
Track art
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Yeah, Amerikaz mothafuckin' Nightmare, bitch

They wanna know, where the hood at? Nigga, we right here
Live in the flesh with the Tecs, they never scared
Them guns we holding, claustrophobic, we'll let 'em air
Dump-dump, reloaded the Amerikaz Nightmare

Dogs, I think smarter, reach harder
Slugs travel much farther
Niggas stomped a Timberland wearing face carver
With the box cutter, top gutter
I hover over you lames, run for cover, end in your brain
Yeah, you did your thang but not very good
And by the looks of things, You can't come back to the hood
This is not a good look for you my nigga
Wus really poppin, Inquirin minds wanna know
How you rocking them new guns, we cop those
Invoke, like we bought 'em in Costco's
Don't get yaself murk'd, wet shirt
Said it first, hurry this that red alert
You ain't gotta get buck to know that this letter hurt
The sight of my hammer, gotcha heart pumping
Nerves twitching, eyes jumping, heads will roll
When the pound starts kicking You be missing
Moms will be wearing that yellow ribbon
While I'm somewhere in the Carribean Islands, chillin

You know we keep them big thangs
That make dead people when we hit brains
It's a wrap for the sequel get yo whip spray'd
Tho I rather hit you walkin, get yo shit shaved
Plus showered up, talkin then we split, hey
Won't catch me gun smokin, have the cops think
There was drugs that provoke it while we rollin, hey
Baby girl, I see you, can I get a taste
Of that thang, heard it's lethal in a good way
Just so you kno I ain't the one that get yo clit ate
But hope you got a strong back, I'll make yo shit break
You'll be walking like a penguin for a few days
Yo Bitch, you know we got BIG CASH
Money fallin' out our pockets, give you whiplash
When we drive past your project, ain't nobody can stop us
Infamous they can't stop us, They want our spot
Yo fall back nigga we got this

I got love for my niggas, love for my niggas
Love for my niggas, got love for my niggas
I bust thugs for my niggas, thug for my niggas
Thugs for my niggas, bust bloods for my niggas

Yo slugs touchin, medics will rush you
Jake dusting for prints, make shift
Morgues made for you pricks
You know shat stay on my hip, you know the hood that I rep
You know we dumpin' them clips
You in the valley of death

Get comfortable nigga, you runnin out of breath (outta breath)
Ya blood is spilling through the ceiling of the necks (of the necks)
Floor or have you flood the cement
Outside somewhere on the streets, no longer in the flesh

Written by Albert Johnson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita • Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group